


Drabble: I fucking love you

by SinningPlumpPrincess



Category: Good Omens (TV)
Genre: Aziraphale is v good at bdsm, BDSM, Bondage, Crowley Has A Vulva (Good Omens), Dom/sub, Genderfluid Crowley (Good Omens), Other, Sex Toys, Vibrators
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-06
Updated: 2019-10-06
Packaged: 2020-11-26 09:50:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 718
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20928245
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SinningPlumpPrincess/pseuds/SinningPlumpPrincess
Summary: For the number prompt and request of ineffable husbands. 61. "I fucking love you."In which two ethereal married beings spend their days loving on each other and each other's indulgences. Aziraphale's being the ever so innocent act of dominating Crowley in the bedroom.





	Drabble: I fucking love you

**Author's Note:**

> If you wanna see more of my work, donate to keep my engine going, or commission me. See me on tumblr @Sinningplumpprincess

There comes a point in a lot of humans marriages where the spark seems to die and they don’t seem to remember why they love each other. Thankfully, as ethereal beings who were very much in love with each other for oh. Say. 6000 years, that wasn’t the case. 

So many years spent together after the apoca-didn't-happen, led both Crowley and Aziraphale to find ways to spoil one another. 

Crowley was a bit more extra of the couple. He liked human fashion, loved changing with the times and blending in or even going against society. Liked confusing people when he wore liner and a more feminine physique one day and then his more agile, thin androgynous one. He enjoyed rest, and he enjoyed his husband shaped being in full. 

Now, Aziraphale was much more simple. He enjoyed indulgences of mortal life that humans brought. Loved their foods and unique cultures all around the world, the differences in tastes and styles. He certainly thought tartan would never go out of style and couldn’t be convinced otherwise. A tad old fashioned that way. 

But, indulgences of humans, came with indulgences of sex lives as well. 

BDSM, a term he had thought was a sport at first until he did proper research. He found it positively delightful. The give and take of such a relationship where one could heel at the other’s feet. He had studied, back in the day, in a public underground club where a master with his many boys and girls heeled for him. 

Aziraphale had seen him deal with brattier partners, shier ones, even ones that needed to be beaten into submission in specific ways. They all had safe words, safe motions, anything to stop an onslaught and extensively talked about boundaries and desires beforehand. 

An interest that he took to Crowley once when they had begun to discuss being so intimate. 

Aziraphale had been confident when speaking of it. Explaining to Crowley the nature of it and had delighted when his partner turned red on his pale cheeks and covered the corner of his mouth and mumbled, “I know what it IS, angel.” In that tone he did when he was flustered. 

When the question came. What position would you want to be in? Aziraphale had smiled. 

“I merely wish to adore you more thoroughly, my dear, you must understand. I do like when you are on top, so to speak. But, ah, I believe I would like to take a more...Authoritative stance in this case.” Aziraphale had spoken as if talking about where to dine for the night. Stroking Crowley’s reddened cheek and cupping under his jaw so Crowley would be forced to look at him. 

The desire spoke in measures, especially when Crowley had swallowed and shakily nod. It was no secret he preferred to have Aziraphale have control, so this was just another delight for him. 

Another indulgence. 

Which is how it becomes part of their routine. Until Crowley is under him one night, wrists bound above his head to the headboard by beautiful red rope. He sobs, twisting his head as if to hide as a vibrator presses harshly to his clit. Bound rope across his body and thighs keeping it firmly pressed there. 

He lies spread out, legs pulled apart and forced to be on display. Aziraphale, fully dressed in a white button up undershit, some black trousers to keep his style sleek, and a tartan bowtie left undone. Can only sit between Crowley’s spread out legs, stroking at his thighs as a fifth orgasm wracks the demon’s frame again. 

Hungry as Crowley’s lips part with a shaky cry, Aziraphale swoops down to claim his mouth. Grasping his chin and forcing Crowley to keep his body right where he wants him. Licking into his mouth, over his tongue and relishing in how Crowley just melts under him. Pliant and willing, even as Aziraphale’s belly presses to the vibrator and puts more pressure. 

Parting messily from the kiss, Aziraphale rests their foreheads together as he whines low in his throat in desire at Crowley’s position. “I fucking love you like this, my dear. Keep going, you can give me one more can’t you?” 

Crowley sobs, pathetically nodding. Because he knows, he knows all too well. 

It won’t just be ‘one more’.


End file.
